Fading
by YukiAndZero
Summary: After a disastrous cataclysm befalls the Wizarding world in early '97, Hermione is the lone survivor willing to fight on. Sending herself spiraling back in time further than intended, she sets out to stop the problem where it began. Previously named Get Me Out of Here. Rated T for Voldemort-ness. Story title based of song by Decyfer Down. Slow updates, but WILL finish guaranteed.
1. Department of Mysteries

**PREVIOUSLY KNOWN AS: _GET ME OUT OF HERE_**

**Recommended: Read on ½. Dark is optional. **

New fic! Tomione is my other fav pairing, so yay C:

**EDIT: **Renamed from** Get Me Out of Here **to _**Fading.**_Based off the song _Fading _by _Decyfer Down. _It fits Tom PERFECTLY.

* * *

_**Fading – Chapter 1**_

_By yukiandzero  
_

* * *

Run, was the first word that came into Hermione's head when the elevator stopped.

"Department of Mysteries."

And she ran, blindly turning corners so they wouldn't catch her, but hoping to find her destination eventually.

"Get her!" The shrill, angry voice of Bellatrix Lestrange cried out. They were here.

Green lights and loud cracks reverberated of the black, glossy walls. Sweat droplets formed on Hermione's brow, threatening to drip into her eyes. Raising a shaky hand, she wiped it off and ran faster. Where was the door?

"Once we kill her, we've won! Hurry!" A new, raspy voice cried. Fear instilled itself in Hermione's core. It was Lord Voldemort himself. How much faster could she run? How much further could she dodge curses until she was hit?

She turned another corner sharply before halting in her tracks. The door, there it was.

"Bombarda Maxima!" She yelled fiercely, and watched as the door and the walls surrounding it exploded into a firework of dust and debris.

A flash of green light flew just past her face. She whipped her head around to see Voldemort standing with his wand raised, surrounded by Death Eaters including Bellatrix Lestrange.

She flicked her wand, casting a silent shielding charm just in time to deflect the inevitable killing curse, and ran once more.

It was her only hope, the rumours. She ran as fast as she could, constantly casting shielding spells behind her.

The entire collection of Time-Turners had been destroyed last year, but there had been rumours floating around the Ministry of a project. A project to create a new one. The rumours grew, and talk of a completed one circled around. People were saying that it was hidden in the Department of Mysteries, at the back of the Hall of Prophecies. People that Hermione trusted, and who's word she valued.

She had little to no chance of this working, but that Time-Turner was her last hope. With several Death Eaters on her tail, including Lord Voldemort himself, no idea what might be used to guard the only existing Time-Turner in England, and rapidly decreasing stamina, Hermione knew death was likely coming soon, but she wasn't ready to give in just yet.

She turned corners at every chance she got, throwing spells towards anything that moved. The wards placed in the Department of Mysteries- No, the wards placed throughout the _entire _Ministry of Magic had vanished. Everyone was dead. Hermione silently begged that wards were the only protection. That was usually the case, as no one had foreseen the disastrous cataclysm that took place just three weeks ago. Hermione had only just begun her sixth year, only just turned seventeen, yet she had been on the run constantly since then.

The cracks of spells being fired were getting slower, less constant, and further away. She knew they wouldn't give up, ever. But even the most powerful being on Earth and his followers got tired. Hermione was more than tired, but she had something they didn't. She was a Gryffindor. She had willpower, determination, and bravery.

They knew this, but they also didn't know what she was looking for. They probably assumed that she was just using the many twists and turns to her advantage to stay alive.

Hermione raced in the direction that she _hoped _was the back of the hall.

"Avada Kedavra!" There was a scream, followed by a thud, and the sound of breaking glass. Hermione turned around, who was that? Everyone willing to fight was dead, she thought. She thought she was alone.

There was another shout of the killing curse. This time there were several shouts. Someone was killing the Death Eaters! Hermione held her wand in front of her.

"Lumos." She whispered, and looked around her carefully. Racking her brain, Hermione tried to decided whether to investigate the killer, or just find the Time-Turner.

No, if there was someone left, someone who survived the massacre, she had to know who. Running blindly towards the source of the noise, Hermione shut off the light on her wand and slowed down, peering around corners carefully.

After turning another corner in the direction of the noise, she noticed a bright light in her peripheral vision. Squinting, she turned around to see someone facing her, their wand lit up so bright she couldn't make out their face. Surrounding the person were bodies, cloaked bodies. She noticed their faces and recognised them to be the Death Eaters. Their masks had been ripped off.

"W-who are you?" She stuttered. Someone from the Ministry? A survivor no less.

"Hermione, get out of here. Go to the Time-Turner." The voice urged. It was male. Harry? No. She had seen him get hit with the curse right before her eyes. Witnessed the cold, glazed look overcome his eyes. Hermione had seen the very same fate befall all of her dearest friends.

"Please Hermione, you have to hurry." The voice urged once more. Suddenly, loud footsteps approached them and the boy immediately shut off the light. As her vision adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the survivor. He was only a teenager, probably the same age as her. Jet black hair fell into his face, while his skin almost glowed at how pale he was.

Who could it be? How did he know that she was after the Time-Turner?

The footsteps grew closer. Hermione slunk back into the shadows, but wasn't quite ready to give up on finding out the mysterious boy's identity.

A tall figure emerged into view, and Hermione stifled a gasp. Lord Voldemort. The boy held his wand high at the figure. Did he not know who the figure was? He wouldn't stand a chance.

Voldemort noticed the teen and hissed, raising his wand also. "You!"

"Yes, me." He growled. "Avada Kedavra!"

"Stupefy!"

Voldemort and the boy shouted curses at the same time, while the two spells joined up to each other in a combat for triumph. Hermione raised a hand to her mouth. Priori Incantatem.

Her eyes grew worried as she noticed that Voldemorts spell was slowly gaining momentum towards the boy's wand. The boy had his teeth clenched tightly, sweat droplets running down the side of his face.

"H-Hermione. Run." He managed, as Voldemorts spell had nearly reached him.

Without thinking, Hermione turned around and bolted. She had to find that Time-Turner. She tried not to think about what would happen to the boy who had saved her, once stunned. Why had Voldemort used a stunning spell, rather than a killing curse? That was unlike him. Maybe he just wanted to torture him first. The thought made Hermione sick.

Looking up, she skidded to a halt just in time when she noticed she had reached a dead end. A dead end? No. It couldn't be. She needed to find that Time-Turner. Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to spill. She didn't have any time left. Placing a hand on the glossy wall that signalled her failure, Hermione rested her head next to it.

"Ahh!"

Her shriek reverberated around the hall. The wall in front of her had disappeared and Hermione found herself sprawled on the floor that was never there in the past. Lifting herself up slowly, she took in her new surroundings. She was in a small room, walls the same, glossy black that surrounded the hall. In the middle of a room was a small, mahogany table. Hermione gasped. Hovering above the table was a small, round device almost identical to the Time-Turner that Hermione used in her third year, except this one was a deep ebony colour. Approaching the table, she reached out a shaky hand to grab the Time-Turner. What if it was protected?

"AHHHHH!" An agonising scream was heard throughout the room. Hermione's stomach did a sickening flip and she grabbed to Time-Turner quickly, although gently, and began turning. She needed to go back at least 24 hours.

"1...2...3...4...5..." She began counting softly, ignoring the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"There you are." A cold voice sneered. Hermione looked up, horrified.

"6!" She cried and stopped turning. The had barely managed the last turn before she felt her body being sucked into an unknown force. That wasn't right. She was simply supposed to arrive wherever she had been five and a bit hours ago.

As her body reappeared, she took in her surroundings.

"D-Diagon Alley?" The sky was bright, and several witches and wizards walked through what resembled Diagon Alley. Many young children were looking excitedly through shop windows, their flustered parents trying to drag them away.

"When am I?" Hermione whispered. This was not five and a half hours ago. Five and a half hours ago, Hermione was running for her life through the halls of Hogwarts watching the fellow students, who found refuge in the castle like her, fall dead around her.

Five and a half hours ago, Diagon Alley had been completely burnt down, and the sky was certainly not bright.

What had happened to her?

Wiping her cheeks of the tears that were still falling, Hermione straightened up. She had to figure out what was going on, and fast.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but what is the date today?" Hermione asked almost desperately to the first person that looked kind enough to answer politely.

"February 11th sweetie." The witch smiled at the confused Gryffindor. February 11th? That was the same day. So maybe she really had gone back a couple hours...? But why is Diagon Alley restored?

Then a horrifying thought struck her.

"Uh, what year is it?"

The witch smiled again, except this time in a confused manner. "1944."

**A/N: **You like? Hehe. It took me ages to figure out how far she had to go back, to what date, and what events would be happening at that time, etc. God maths sucks. Hope you like it, cause I actually planned this fic out properly, unlike my other one .

Please review, it means a lot (: Like seriously, one little review would make my day C:

P.S. If you like Dramione, check out my other fic 'Letting Go'

P.P.S. Follow me on tumblr :D .com/


	2. 1944

**Recommended: Read on 1/2. Dark is optional.**

* * *

_**Fading – Chapter 2**_

_By yukiandzero  
_

* * *

"_Uh, what year is it?"_

_The witch smiled again, except this time in a confused manner. "1944."_

No. It couldn't be. F-five and a half _decades_? She had gone back fifty-two years!

Hermione felt a jelly-like sensation overcome her arms and legs, her mind dizzy and her fingers tingling strangely. No, it wasn't possible. She had to get back to present time. Fumbling around in the pockets of her robes, she went to find the Time-Turner.

Wait, what?

Once again, she patted down her robes completely, felt in every pocket she had, and then began searching amongst the cobblestones for the small black device. Where was it? She was holding it when she arrived, wasn't she?

Panic began to overtake Hermione's senses. Could anything go more wrong? Think Hermione, think! You're the brightest witch of your age, she scolded herself, you must be able to think of something. Once again, her body threatened to make her cry. She needed to be stronger than this, she needed to save the future. It was up to her. Harry was dead, so was Ron, Luna, Neville, Ginny, the twins... everyone.

Looking around Diagon Alley once more, Hermione felt a rush of hope surge through her as the sunlight beamed down on her unusually sallow face, causing some of the colour to return. There were still dark, heavy bags under her eyes from lack of sleep and stress. Hope surged through her at the thought that none of those fates had taken place yet.

No one had known what Voldemort had been planning. It all came so suddenly, and rather alarmingly. That was the idea, though.

The first to die was Dumbledore. But no one ever suspected that something as devastating as this death was only the beginning at it's smallest. The second was the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, along with the muggle Prime Minister. Voldemort then proceeded to destroy various architecture around London, then England itself.

The one that shocked Hermione the most was when he destroyed the London Eye. Severing it at the base, it crashed into the River Thames with over 700 people still on it. He then burnt it completely using Fiendfyre to make sure every last person was dead. The fire didn't stop until it had burnt down over three kilometres of residential area, leaving hundreds more dead.

After that, Hogwarts shut down and most of the students families went into hiding, especially the muggle born ones. Pius Thicknesse overtook place of Minister, and made it his job to seek out the muggle borns and shut them away in Azkaban.

Then they just destroyed the Ministry itself when they had drained it from everything valuable to their 'cause'... It was a mass slaughter. They went in there, and turned the place upside-down. Most of the deaths were the killing curse, but there were people that Voldemort seemed to have a personal conflict with so he did what he was so fond of. Using Legilimency to torture them past insanity before finally killing them.

It took all of Dumbledore's Army, Professor McGonagall... pretty much all of his old classmates, to convince Harry to seek refuge in the castle with everyone else for the time being at least. This was long after many had lost hope, after there was no other safe place but the closed down school.

The house elves remained ever loyal to the castle, and continued to serve the students with food, but the food didn't seem to bring the colour back into their faces. Even Luna lacked in her usual airy, light demeanour, though she still acted as a calming figure to the others.

What happened after that, Hermione chose not to brood on. She was here now, in Diagon Alley 1944 and none of that had happened yet. And if she had any choice in the matter, it wouldn't happen.

"'Scuse me, miss, but yer've been standin' there fer a rather long time. Is everythin' alrigh'?

Hermione whipped her head around to see a tall boy standing beside her, a curious look on his face. The boy had a rather huge build, with rough, untidy black hair. Tilting her head, Hermione regarded him curiously.

"I'm fine, sorry. I was just wondering..." Hermione tried to look confused. "I was just wondering how to get to Hogwarts from here?"

"Hogwarts ey? I don't go there no more." The boy looked sad for a second, but recovered quickly and held out a large hand.

"What's yer name, miss?"

Hermione took his hand delicately. "Penelope Clearwater, and you?"

"Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid."

Hermione's eyes widened, but she quickly hid her surprise and stifled a grin.

"Pleasure." She smiled instead.

"If yer wantin' to go to Hogwarts, I can take yer there now." Young Hagrid offered, looking excited. Hermione couldn't figure out why he was so elated, but she smiled all the same and accepted his offer gratefully. It had been so long since she'd smiled like this, but when she thought about the terrible fate that befalls Hagrid in the future her smiled was wiped away.

She still remembered having to hold Harry back as the old hut went down in flames, Hagrid and Fang still inside with no way to escape. Harry was yelling out empty cries of plea to the merciless Death Eaters, while trying to break from Hermione's grip and somehow run in and save the two of them.

Hermione knew she shouldn't brood on fake memories. They weren't real any more. They had never happened, and they never would. Holding herself up in a defiant manner, Hermione continued to follow Hagrid to the Leaky Cauldron.

"By the way, I've never seen yer around before, are yer new to Hogwarts?"

"U-uh, well..." Hermione tried to think of a story that would help her get into Hogwarts but not get her caught out.

Then again, it would be very hard for her to get caught out considering that coming 54 years from the future isn't exactly the kind of thing someone would guess.

Fake tears welled up in her eyes, "I had always dreamed of going to Hogwarts, but my parents never allowed it. They're muggles. So, I ran away." At this point, Hermione let a couple tears slip out down her still pale cheeks. "Th-there, was a fire, just a couple days ago. I was going back to apologise, b-but... I saw... flames." She was now speaking in between sobs.

She felt bad about lying to Hagrid, but...

"Oh dear, well, we oughta get yer up to Dippet then. I'm sure he'll take yer in." Hagrid replied sadly.

* * *

"Penelope Clearwater, was it?" Headmaster Dippet peered at her over the rims of his round reading glasses.

"Y-yes."

"Rubeus already told me what happened, I'm terribly sorry."

Hermione looked at the ground to her left. She hated lying.

"I'm assuming you do not have a wand?"

"Uh, well actually I do." Hermione replied pulling out her faithful wand.

"How ever did you manage to get that?" He shook his head, "Nevermind. Having no previous magical education, how much do you know, exactly?"

Blushing, Hermione looked down again. "A lot, actually."

"Well, we'll have to test that later, as you know. We can schedule a sorting for you tomorrow morning and then get you settled into a dorm. As for tonight, you may stay in the Head's dorm as the Head girl is... away, if you will."

"Th-thank you." Hermione was nervous. A sorting? She didn't have time for that, she also didn't need the entire student body of 1944 to see her, it was bad enough that Hagrid did. He would surely recognise her in the future!

_'If there still is a future' _she thought bitterly.

"Gretchen Greenwood will lead you there, have a good night Miss Clearwater."

Hermione nodded and left the large office. What had she gotten herself into? Why did she go to Hogwarts? Maybe it was because she felt lost, and Hogwarts was like a second home to her. She knew she was in danger, but it was too late to change her appearance now. Cursing her situation, she stepped of the stairs to see a tall, pretty girl smiling at her.

"Hi, I'm Gretchen." She said, smiling. Hermione frowned. Being extremely perceptive, she noticed that the smile didn't quite reach the blonde's eyes.

"I was asked to show you to the Head Dorm. I saw that half-wit Hagrid lead you in." The older girl frowned. "Serves him right, getting expelled. It's all thanks to Tom. He's a really great person."

Hermione's eyes widened. Tom Riddle! Her second year came back to her fast, and Hermione remembered how young Voldemort had opened the Chamber of Secrets to 'purge the school of those unworthy to learn magic' and then framed Hagrid.

A dark look crossed Hermione's face. What if it wasn't an accident, being sent back here? What if she was sent back here to stop all of the misfortune and misery that one, hateful boy brought upon so many families.

"We're he- are you alright?" Gretchen frowned again at the look on Hermione's face.

"U-uh yeah, sorry. Thank you." Hermione replied hurriedly and walked through the already open door to her new common room. She heard the door shut behind her, but ignored it. She needed some time to think.

She sat down on the comfy brown couch that was seated in front the fire, the only thing between the two objects being a small, glass table.

Sitting down, she felt the weight of her problems fall heavily on her mind. The realisation of the situation she had been placed in all came crashing down on her at once. Tears began to form, but she brushed them away quickly.

Tom Riddle. The two words circulated through her head, causing her innards to swirl. Not just with horror and disgust, but with nervousness. She lay down, resting her throbbing head on the arm rest. Shutting her eyes, she let the dreariness overtake, and darkness washed over her mind.

**A/N: **Omg. I'm sorry for not updating quickly. Usually when I don't update quickly I write a longer chapter to make up for it, but I fail xD Omg. I'm sorry again. I SWEAR I will write the next chapter at least 3000 words or something. The reason why ch1 was short was because it was more of an intro, but this one was supposed to have a lot more content. I'msorryomg. But hey, guess who I met on the weekend? The Weasley twins ;)))

Yes. I am one lucky cunt. 3

P.S. I update faster if I get** reviews** *wink wink*

P.P.S. Now that Pottermore is out, I hope some of you have gotten accounts. ADD ME! MidnightWolf18846. I'm a Slytherin, hehe.


	3. Legilimency

_******Recommended: Read on 1/2. Dark is optional.**_

* * *

_**Fading – Chapter 3**_

_By yukiandzero_

* * *

Bright lights swarmed across her vision. Her eyelids fluttered open to reveal a sharp pain behind her eyes.

Groaning, the Gryffindor raised a shaky hand to her face. Rising slowly, she noticed she was still on the couch. The past day of non-stop running and fighting had definitely taken it's toll on her. Food was what she really needed right now.

She lifted herself off the couch gently and looked around the dorm for the bathroom. When she found it, the first thing she saw was herself as there was a large mirror covering the wall directly in front of the door.

Hermione nearly fainted.

Her hair was matted in several places, there were blood stains on her dark pink sweater and dirt covered her face. What must've everyone thought?

First things first, shower. But what was she going to wear? Maybe the old Head Girl had left behind some of her robes. She left the bathroom towards a wooden door she had spotted whilst looking around. She knocked softly first, remembering how the Headmaster had only stated that the Head _girl _was away. Not the Head boy.

"Come in." A tired voice groaned. Hermione's hand froze right above the doorknob, but she shook her head and resumed to turn the doorknob and push the door open.

The room was a mess, there was crumpled up parchment and books covering the floor and the bed. Sitting on the bed was, she guessed, the Head boy. He was wearing muggle casual clothes, surprisingly, and looked extremely tired. Dark bags were under his eyes, and his light brown hair was a mess.

He didn't look up at her, he was too busy writing notes furiously, in between glances up at the book that was perched in front of him.

"H-hi. I'm He-Penelope Clearwater." Hermione said hesitantly. He looked like he didn't want to be disturbed.

This time he looked up. "Sorry, uh hi, I know. I'm James Young." He smiled politely.

"S-sorry to interrupt. I was actually just looking for the Head girl's room. I don't actually have any robes to wear." Hermione returned the smile, albeit sheepishly.

"The room is on the other side of the dorm. Get ready quickly because I have to take you down to your sorting in about half an hour." He looked back to his parchment and frowned, scribbling down more messy notes.

Hermione took that as her queue to leave, and gently closed the door in front of her. The Head boy reminded her a lot of herself in third year. That memory brought a smile to her face, remembering how she was caught up late at night, studying furiously in the common room. She remembered how tired and worn out she was because of all the work.

She found the other dorm easily, and went in. This dorm was much cleaner than the other one, and Hermione took a liking to it quickly. There was a tall shelf adorning one wall, and was packed with books. On the bed, a long black robe was laid out for her. She picked it up and took it to the bathroom.

* * *

Hermione looked herself over for the umpteenth time. She was looking normal again, sort of. Her face was still slightly pale, considering she hadn't eaten anything in so long. Her hair looked fine, she figured. The robe fit as well, which was good. But of course, the nerves still got to her no matter what she looked like.

She was just about to leave when she heard James call out for her. Hermione hurried out to the main room before brushing down her robes and mustering up that Gryffindor courage.

She noticed that James had cleaned up as well, his hair not _as _messy, the bags under his eyes weren't as visible and he was wearing the standard Hogwarts robes like herself. Suddenly a thought struck her.

"If you don't mind me asking, what house are you in?"

"Uh, Ravenclaw. Looking forward to your sorting?"

Hermione smiled, "A bit nervous, but all in all, yes."

He returned her smile and led her out of the dorm down towards the great hall. They stopped just at the entrance beside the teachers table.

"Dippet will call you out when it's time, shouldn't be long. I'll wait with you for bit, but I have to go join my table soon."

"No no, it's fine. You can go have some breakfast now."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded politely, although truthfully she didn't want to be alone. He gave her a quick thanks and headed over to the Ravenclaw table. Taking a deep breath, she tried to listen intently to what the Headmaster was saying.

When she looked up, she saw him gesturing to her. Her heart stopped momentarily, then proceeded to beat loudly in her ears. She hadn't felt like this since first year!

"And today, we welcome a _new _student to Hogwarts, Penelope Clearwater!"

The great hall erupted into applause. Hermione walked out on stage with an air of confidence, despite being more nervous than anything. The teacher had laid out a small stool for her already, and she sat down on it gracefully. She was almost tempted to hide her face from the student body, but Hermione was aware the damage had already been done.

The Headmaster placed the old sorting hat on her head and stood back.

"_Ahh, I can see you have a sharp mind, but you appear to be _hiding _something. Something that would only be taken on by someone very brave. Bravery or wit?" _The hat seemed to think for a moment. _"You certainly would prosper in Gryffindor, although Ravenclaw seems to be almost as well-situated. Leave me to think."_

Hermione sighed, she remembered this from so many years ago, or ahead if you will. Then an odd thought struck her, what if she asked to be in Ravenclaw? You know, something new? She mentally shook her head. No. It would do her best to stay with the things she's familiar with.

"_Let's see here, I have made my decision... _GRYFFINDOR!"

The hall burst into another bout of applause, although this time the Gryffindor table was the loudest. Hermione couldn't help but break into a proud smile. Lifting herself off the seat, she shook the Headmaster's hand and walked over to the Gryffindor table.

* * *

Hermione had been pacing around the dorm ever since breakfast. She had been told that she had to stay in the Head's dorm for now, until her Gryffindor room could be prepared properly.

Now she merely stressed over the massive responsibility place on her. Tom Riddle was the name that she still couldn't get off her mind.

She couldn't kill him. Or could she? Hermione shook her head. She wasn't going to end this with violence. But he had killed so many! Rage swelled up within her, and she almost looked forward to seeing his face. He was a sick and twisted being, she knew that much.

"Are you alright, Penelope?"

Hermione turned around to see that James had just entered the dorm. She sighed, rubbing her hand on her forehead. "I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced, but dropped the subject either way. "Do you mind if I do some studying out here?"

"I'm sorry, I'll go if you want! It _is _your quarters." Hermione replied hurriedly, she didn't want him to think she was taking the room for herself. Before she could manage to take her leave, a tingling sensation took over her head. Hermione didn't know what it was but it worried her. It grew and grew until she had the urge to cry out in frustration.

Then, as quickly as it began, it ended. Hermione tried to leave the room quickly just in case James had noticed something strange again, but she stopped when she heard him whisper softly under his breath.

She turned around to regard him with fake curiosity and noticed he was white as a ghost.

"James-" She began, but was cut of.

"You're not Penelope, your name is Hermione." James looked like he was about to faint. Hermione paled also, she knew instantly what had happened. How could she be so foolish! Legilimency!

She whipped her wand out as fast as she could with the spell 'obliviate' already on her tongue.

"Don't do that." James warned, pulling out his own wand. "Tell me what it was, that snake man. Where is he now?"

Hermione sighed. "Please, just let me erase your memory. You have no idea how bad it is that you know. And why on Earth were you invading my mind in the first place?"

James looked down. "I'm sorry, I know it's wrong but I couldn't help myself. You seemed so annoyed so I was curious..."

Hermione was angry, but more scared at the consequences of her lack of care.

"Do you know... Tom Riddle?" Hermione asked suddenly, but cursed herself afterwards. No one could know when she was from! It could change everything!

"I hate him. But what's he got to do with anything? And how do you even know about him?"

"I thought everyone loved him still." Hermione frowned.

"Still?" Hermione mentally kicked herself. "And everyone _does _love him, except me. He's an annoying, selfish, fake, prejudice git."

_Prejudice... _

"How do you know that he's all those things?" Hermione asked cautiously, maybe he already suspected something? When he blushed, she knew the answer already.

"Jealousy."

"No! That's not it! It's j-just..."

At that point, Hermione decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and delved into his mind.

_He was sitting on his bed, frantically studying for his N.E.W.T exam despite it being so far off. He couldn't let his family down... There was no denying he was smart, how else would he have been sorted into Ravenclaw? But the pressure was constant, and nagging. 'Be the best'. Not 'Be the best you can' but 'Be the best. Full. Stop.' And that dammed sixth year kept on placing him second. He was a year younger and already better, and James couldn't stand it. He _hated _Tom Riddle._

"_J-James, please come down for dinner." He turned to the voice and Hermione saw a pretty girl with long strawberry blonde hair standing in the doorway. She was the Head girl._

"_I can't, not now Lin..."_

"_Oh but you _never _join the others any more. I miss seeing you smile, now a days you're always cooped up in here studying..." The girl looked down sadly._

"_Linda, you know how important this is for me!" _

Hermione felt herself being pushed out of his mind, but she had the advantage and cruelly pushed further.

"_I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. Young, but Miss Moore has been sent to St Mungo's... I'm afraid she was the latest victim. The healers are doing all they can."_

_James paled. _

"_N-no, that's not right!"_

_The Headmaster looked at him with pity. "I'm sorry, dear boy. I give you my deepest sympathies and as much as I would like to stay, I have some work to attend to. I would advise you to go back to your dorm and get some rest."_

"_B-but..." James shut his eyes tightly. _

_He opened them and the Headmaster had already gone. _

"P-Please, stop." Came the voice of James. Hermione was tempted to go further, but she didn't have the heart.

She pulled her mind out and faced James properly. His eyes held a mixture of anger, sadness and regret.

"I-I'm so sorry... I just, I..." Hermione tried to explain.

"Don't bother, _Hermione_." He said placidly. He looked simply tired now.

He gave her an unreadable look before turning and heading for his room. Hermione was guilty, no denying that, but she was also angry at herself for letting it get this far. How could she be so stupid? She needed to have walls up at all times, especially when around Tom Riddle...

Hermione scowled at her thoughts and, also, headed for her room.

* * *

Why was Percy's girlfriend the first name that popped into her head when coming up with an alias? This was the first question that popped into Hermione's head when she woke up. She was brooding again. It was morning already, and she was somewhat nervous about classes. She had been given her timetable, and was 'thankful' that most of them were with the Slytherins. Hermione used the term thankful lightly, she was actually rather scared.

"H-Hermione, are you coming down for breakfast...?"

That sentence brightened Hermione's mood considerably. So James wasn't ignoring her. But he was calling her by her real name. She really should erase his memory... Pulling out her wand, she turned it a few times in her hand.

There was a knock on her door. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Hermione saw James peering in hesitantly.

"Look I'm really sorry about last night and I'm sorry for using Legilimency against you and I really want to know what I saw I understand if you don't trust me now but I swear that I won't say anything to anyone I mean I _have _no one to confide in anyway so please just tell me because if that many people have been murdered by that snake thing and no ones heard about it yet then I want to know what's going on because it could be connected to the attacks and-"

"Calm down." Hermione stared at him. She couldn't tell him. That would ruin everything and letting people know about where she was from would be the worst move she could make. But he knew first hand what it was like to lose someone important to the Dark Lord even if he didn't know it yet.

"I really can't tell you, I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for using Legilimency against you as well."

"But, I need to know who you are! You come into this school with a false name, claiming to have never studied magic before but have an extensive knowledge of it and bear thoughts of a murderer that no one else knows of!

"I'll make the Unbreakable Vow! Please... I just want to know anything that could help Lin."

Hermione's eyes widened. She knew the consequences of the Unbreakable Vow, how could he even propose such a thing!

"Even if I did tell you you wouldn't be able to help her. It's all up to St Mungo's now."

"You don't understand..."

"I do understand. I lost my parents, my friends, everyone I was close to. I'm just trying to change that!" Hermione snapped.

"You can't bring people back from the _dead_." James replied harshly.

"Breakfast is over, I'll be heading to class now." Hermione said lightly as she pushed passed him to leave the dorm, not meeting his glance. But James didn't miss the tears that had rapidly formed in her eyes.

**A/N: **M'kay, I'm sorry. This chapter was under 3000 and it was bad. I will try and go over it a couple more times and fix anything I can, but yeah. I have to try and find a good beta-reader...

Please **review**! It would mean a lot, and I would certainly update faster. 3

Oh and if anyone wants to know what the 'muggle casual attire' that I mentioned looks like, it's basically just a shirt (like not a t-shirt, but a shirt) and slacks... And as to the fact that it wasn't common for girls to wear pants in this era, let's just forget about that momentarily please? XD I will address that in the next chapter.


	4. Slug Club?

**Recommended: Read on Dark. 1/2 is optional.**

**I'M NOT DEAD I'M NOT DEAD I'M NOT DEAD I SWEAR! - And omg the title isn't italic, because it was fking up my layout xD**

* * *

**Fading – Chapter 4**

By yukiandzero

* * *

She didn't go to class.

You see, Hermione was always the logical one. The one that rarely let her emotions get ahead of her when there was something much more important at hand. The glue that kept their little group together. So she didn't go to class, she went to the only place where she thought she might be able to find some resemblance of comfort. The library.

The library was the place she went to when she was sad, when she needed comfort, when she wanted to know something, or when she just wanted to study. It was her sanctuary.

The burning of the library was terrifying at the least for Hermione. Standing there, with her now deceased friends, subjecting millenniums of information to the burning ends of their torches and wands. There was no other way. The Death Eaters were coming, and they were coming through the library.

Hermione had always told Harry to practise his occlumency. He had never listened.

You-Know-Who had seen their hiding place, although expected as it was. Harry had seen the way that they planned on getting in. So they burnt it down... What a mistake.

When she rounded the corner and her sanctuary came into view, she could almost hear Malfoy yelling at her to throw away the books she had fruitlessly tried to save.

But the library had never been burnt, right? Hermione began running this thought through her head, amongst others. Other thoughts of comfort. Thoughts that reassured her and eased her mind. She didn't stop thinking these things even as she entered the library and slowly made her way to a table. She didn't stop thinking them as she pulled out the chair and sat down. After some time, she had relaxed considerably and allowed her thoughts to drift.

Would she get in trouble for skipping class? She thought idly. Not that it mattered, if she _went _to class she would be doomed for sure. Riddle would see right through her.  
Thinking over her timetable, she realised her Transfigurations class with the Slytherins would be over and she would be able to head to Ancient Runes with the Hufflepuffs. After that was Potions, also with the Slytherins.

Hermione was very adept occlumens, she was good with concentration. The picture that she used was a simple, yet intricate one. It was a brick wall. Nothing more, nothing less. But Hermione could skim over that wall for hours, concentrating on each individual crevice and speck of dust. She could hold up conversations, do work and read books while having the wall in the back of her mind, protecting the rest of her thoughts and memories.

But was it good enough against the most advanced legilimens, ever? The only thing that reassured Hermione was knowing that he'd had only a few years or so to practice this skill, like her. Not seventy. So hopefully he was as good as her only. At best, Hermione could be more accomplished due to the high need for this particular skill after the attacks began.

She rose from her chair, and left the comfort of the library confidently. Hermione herself wasn't sure if the confidence was a mask or not, but she didn't dwell on that.

_Fear does not become you._

Luckily for Hermione, the Ancient Runes classroom was where it used to be. Funnily enough, it was Gretchen who was supposed to show her to her classes. Hermione hadn't seen her all day, and she hoped no one grew suspicious that she knew where all her classes were either way.

She made her way to the back of the room and sat down at the last desk in the far corner. There were a couple other students seated in the class, but not all had arrived yet. Hermione sighed with relief internally that she wasn't late.

She went to lay her books on the table, when she realised she didn't have any. Frowning, she quickly strode to the front of the class to ask for some parchment, ink and a quill off the professor.

She didn't even have a text book, she thought grumpily.

"Can I help you?" The male professor had his face buried in a book to his query came out as a sort of grumble.

"I-I'm new, sorry. I was wondering if you had a spare text book and parchment I could use?"

He put the book down, revealing himself to be a very skinny man, with a sallow face and a long pointed nose. On this nose was perched a pair of thick black reading glasses, not unlike the ones Arthur and Percy wear.

"Oh my, of course dear. What is your name, might I ask?"

"Penelope Clearwater." She replied confidently.

"Well here you go Penelope." He replied, gathering a roll of parchment, quill, and ink and placing it on her outstretched arms. "You'll find spare textbooks in the storage cupboard over the back there." He pointed to the door conveniently located behind Hermione's desk. "Keep the book for as long as you need it."

Hermione thanked the Professor, and went back to the end. She noticed that all of the students had now taken their places and were regarding her presence curiously. She ignored them and reached into the cupboard to grab one of the many books that had 'Advanced Rune Translation' printed onto the front cover.

Hermione was confident in this subject, as she was with all of her subjects, so she scribbled down her notes subconsciously. The class passed by quickly, and soon enough Hermione was handing back her text book to the professor and hurrying out of the class like everyone else.

Towards Potions.

The corridor seemed colder than usual, eerily reflecting Hermione's nervous emotions. But she couldn't let nerves get the best of. She headed towards the dungeons with a confident air about her, begging her mind to take on the same persona.

The old potions class was nearing, with an unmistakable crowd of students out the front, slowly shuffling in. Hermione took her place behind them and subtly scanned the crowd for Riddle. Once in the class, she noticed someone already seated at the front. She knew it was him before he turned around to regard the incoming students. Her hands felt cold all of a sudden, as she realised just how much he resembled Harry. Her stomach lurched nervously, and she felt her mind go slightly dizzy. Sitting there, right in front of her, was Lord Voldemort in the flesh. She had the power kill him right now, if she wanted, and walk out knowing she had saved the future. But she could never do that.

Hermione Granger would never use the killing curse on anyone. She would never become a murderer.

When she realised she'd been standing and staring at Riddle, she quickly hurried over to an empty seat behind him. She wanted to be able to observe him without having him observe her.

"Welcome, class!" A voice exclaimed from behind the desk. Hermione couldn't see the voice exactly, because the source was bending down, but she knew it who it was. Professor Slughorn.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the large, lively man stood up from behind the desk, holding a small vile in his hand. Hermione had only met him once, because he was supposed to teach Potions at Hogwarts before the attacks started, and Dumbledore had introduced him to the Golden-Trio.

"Today, we will be making a particularly _advanced _potion." At this, he shook the vial in his hand, and the bright yellow substance shimmered slightly. "In your text books it is under the title, _'An Elixir to Induce Euphoria'_. I don't expect all of you to get it right, but it's part of sixth year curriculum so give it your best go!"

Hermione sat up straighter. She knew the properties of this potion, and although she'd never had the chance to try it, she was confident she'd have no problems making it.

"Now, as you may have noticed, we have a new student joining us today!" Slughorn boomed, gesturing to Hermione cheerfully. Hermione felt her stomach lurch again as everyone, including Riddle, turned their eyes to her. She held her walls even stronger, out of caution.

"Miss Clearwater here is a muggle born who has never had a chance to study magic properly before, so I think it would do her good to have some help this lesson."

Hermione tried hard to keep the frown off her face. She didn't need help at all, she was _Hermione Granger._

"Ah, Tom my boy, I think you'd be perfect to help Miss Clearwater. Just show her the basics, if you don't mind." Slughorn beamed at his star pupil, while Hermione felt as if her stomach had completely abandoned her.

"A-ah, no. I don't think that will be necessary." She replied, keeping her voice steady.

"Excuse me, dear girl?"

"I actually have had some experience with magic, a-and I would like to try and complete this potion on my... own." As she said this, she heard a small voice at the back of her head screaming at her to shut up and go along with Slughorn. God damn Gryffindor bravery.

"Well... yes... uh, if you... if you want to. But please be careful, we don't want any accidents here now do we!"

"Of course not, Professor." Hermione replied carefully, not meeting Riddle in the eye.

Hermione sunk slightly lower into her chair, as Slughorn told everyone which pages to turn their textbooks to. Realising that she didn't have a text book for this class too, she raised a reluctant hand. She didn't want to draw any further attention to herself as a new student than she already had. Then again, it's not like getting the potion entirely correct while being and new student _and _supposedly not having any magical background education is going to help her remain entirely anonymous in the first place.

"Yes Miss Clearwater?"

"I'm afraid I don't own a text book."

Slughorn brightened, much to Hermione's confusion. "Oh, well then I guess you can share a text book with Tom for this lesson. Just to make sure everything goes as planned."

Before Hermione had the chance to react, Slughorn was hurrying her into the seat next to Riddle, much to her horror. Of course, Riddle didn't show it at all, but Hermione hardly thought the future prejudice Dark Lord really wanted sit next to, let alone _help_, a muggle born student.

When Hermione sat down, she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She feared that if she did, he would see right through her. As everyone says, the eyes are the window to the soul. If he managed to see through her, all he would see is complete and utter hate for every fibre of his being.

Trying to suppress her overwhelming emotions, Hermione concentrated on the task at hand, trying to look at Riddle's textbook as little as possible. She added the ingredients to her cauldron furiously, trying to concentrate on the potion. She barely looked at his text book, but she knew she was doing it correctly by the gaping Professor Slughorn, eyeing her avidly.

Subconsciously, Hermione reached up to scratch her head, having felt a weird sensation burning in her scalp. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears and she was sure everyone in the class could hear it. Her stomach was throbbing with nerves. Damn her for drawing attention to herself. Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she continued to make her potion, forcefully keeping her trembling hands steady.

Just as she was about to stir the final stir, the persistent itching stopped abruptly. She lifted the ladle out of the cauldron and set it gently on the desk.

"My my, well done Miss Clearwater! How ever did you manage that?" Slughorn beamed at her. Hermione stared determinedly at her cauldron, that was steaming with a sunshine yellow substance. She could feel _him_ staring at her, along with the rest of the class.

"Well, no matter. I would like you to stay behind after class, if you don't mind. I have a little proposition for you."

* * *

Hermione slumped down on the couch, back inside the dorms. She was supposed to be packing her stuff, ready to move into a Gryffindor dorm, but her body was exhausted. James was already patrolling, and for that Hermione was glad. She knew he couldn't have meant what he said, but it still hurt all the same.

Her mind was still reeling over being invited to Slughorn's 'Slug Club'. She'd heard of it, back when she was supposed to be in sixth year. But she never considered that it would be around now as well.

Would Voldemort be there? Of course. If she looked at it one way, it was a death sentence. Too many questions, and she might faulter. But if she looked at it the _other _way, then it could be perfect opportunity to destroy You-Know-Who.

Sighing, she picked herself up and headed for the bedroom. She was moving into her new room tomorrow, so she wouldn't have to worry about James any more. He was just a burden that she doesn't need at all right now.

* * *

**A/N: **Omg. I'm so sorry for not updating in a million years. This chapter sucks horse shit. It's short, and I completely ruined the whole 'meeting' scene omfg shoot me now. I will re-write, but I want you guise to know I'm not entirely dead. **Please read my one shot called 'Love and Fear' about Tom Riddle**, and please** review**!

Oh and I changed the name of the story to 'Fading' because I was originally inspired by the song Fading by Decyfer Down. It's brilliant, and it fits Tom perfectly :3

P.S. THERE WILL BE NO LOVE TRIANGLE WITH JAMES. Just thought I'd put that out there, I hate love triangles xD


	5. No Hope

******Recommended: Read on ½. Dark is optional.**_**  
**_

* * *

_**Fading – Chapter 5**_

_By yukiandzero_

* * *

You know that feeling you get when you know what you have to do, but you're so worried that somehow you're wrong that you go into a panic and end up not doing it at all?

Hermione's stomach lurched uncomfortably, as she clutched the blue covered book in her hands.

"_Properties of Time Travel"_

The library was quiet, as most students were at dinner. Hermione didn't have the stomach for food when Time Travel was on her mind, yet she was still stuck reading the same sentence over and over again.

Somewhere in the library, Hermione heard a scuffling, and quickly transfigured the cover of her book to something mundane, _"100 Most Practical Uses of Flubberworm Mucus". _Shutting the book, she carefully lifted her lantern off the table, and was about to leave when a voice stopped her.

"Flubberworm Mucus, an interesting ingredient. Highly useful for a potions genius such as yourself."

Hermione swallowed and turned around. There he was, the boy who was probably already known as Lord Voldemort to some, in all his flawed perfection. It was quite shocking really, being face to face with him. He regarded her shrewdly, which made Hermione's stomach lurch.

He held out his hand. "Tom Riddle, nice to meet you."

Hermione took the hand, and fought down disgust when she replied with a short, "Penelope Clearwater."

"I already know that." He smiled. "You seem to have quite the talent in potions for a muggle-born with no magical background."

Straightening up, Hermione tried to hide the anger from her eyes and voice. "Might I ask, what you mean by 'for a muggle-born'?"

"Oh nothing, simply that Slughorn mentioned that you had never studied magic before. That was quite outstanding, getting invited to the Slug Club on your first class."

Brushing invisible dust off of her skirt, Hermione tried to hide her nervousness. "I decided to do some reading up on magic when I found out I was a witch. I'm a fast learner." She hoped she was convincing, because if it wasn't good enough then her little journey here would be over far too soon, and she couldn't let that happen to the future. Hermione knew all too well how flustered she can get under pressure. That's why, if she had any choice in the matter, she highly doubted anyone would choose her to do this. At least not alone. No, she mustn't think about Harry and Ron now.

"It seems so. Studious enough to skip dinner, I see." He smiled again.

"What about yourself?" She replied bravely.

"I understand you're new here, so I'm going to explain this once. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry we have people called prefects, and to my knowledge you're staying in a dorm with the Head Boy, am I right? These people are made to patrol the school, as a sort of authority. This includes extra study opportunities, sometimes at dinner."

Hermione felt the embarrassed flush that she had long since become accustomed to creep back onto her cheeks, but she held it down.

"But don't let that bother you, I'll be heading off now. By all means, continue." It was only now that she noticed a book in his hand. When she tried to see the cover, he turned around, sheltering it from her view behind his cloak. Narrowing her eyes in frustration, she waited a couple minutes before heading out of the library herself.

She couldn't be more frustrated. Why didn't she just play dumb with the potion? Now she was doomed for sure. She should've just gone straight to Professor Dumbledore at the beginning. Who was she to think she could outsmart Lord Voldemort? Sighing angrily, she changed her course of direction towards the transfiguration professor's office.

* * *

Her hand hovered in front of the door, hesitating to knock. It was later than she'd hoped. Turns out the moving staircases move differently than she's used to. Would he believe her? Not to mention, the weight of what she was about to do was immense. It would change everything. But the amount of lives it would save... Even if she will almost definitely never return, it was a worthy sacrifice. The fact that she even had to think twice made her frustrated and disappointed.

"Are you going in, or do you mind if I go in first?" A voice asked, and Hermione spun around to see a weary looking James.

"U-um." Looking down, Hermione started walking off in the other direction as fast as possible.

"Hermione, wait."

In her mind, she was trying to think of a reason, any reason, why she should stop. But even as she thought this, she was in the process of turning around to face him again.

"I'm... Well..." He hesitated. "Y-your dorm is ready. You can move in whenever you like."

She nodded curtly, and resumed to walk away. It was after about two minutes that she realised she was heading in completely the wrong direction. With a groan of frustration, she spun on her heal and started all over again, this time in the _right _direction. She wasn't going to feel sorry for some 70 year old guy who she's never met until now. Okay, so he wasn't 70 _just _yet, and to be honest she didn't even know if he'd make it to 70. But as far as Hermione should be concerned, no one in this school was of importance to her other than Tom Riddle and Dumbledore.

As soon as she arrived at the Head's dorm, she sped to her room to collect her few belongings plus some extra so she could move into Gryffindor immediately. Then she would return to Dumbledore's office the next day and finish her business in this time period.

* * *

"Tom my boy, are you alright?" Dumbledore frowned at the young student. Tom turned back to the professor and nodded politely.

"You must forgive me Professor, I remembered another assignment I have due that I must finish immediately."

The transfiguration professor inclined his head. "Very well. I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Riddle dipped his head politely, although it pained him to do so, and left. Assignment indeed. He followed the corridors and staircases back down to the Slytherin dungeons, and after telling a pair of third years to go back to bed, Tom sat on the velvet green couch in the deserted common room comfortably.

But his mind was spending far too much energy than he would like on a certain muggleborn. A certain muggleborn who didn't hide her thoughts carefully enough. Tom went over what he heard carefully. Even the smallest of things allowed him to come to great conclusions. The remark about the staircases made it obvious that she had been to Hogwarts before. But the remark about the Head Boy being 70 years old... there was only one, entirely impossible conclusion that he could deduce from that. Time travel. From somewhere near half a century in the future too. If he was correct, then that girl just became the primary concern of a future Dark Lord.

* * *

Hermione had slept in the Head Girl's room again last night. The items she had chosen to take into the Gryffindor dorm with her lay discarded on the floor in neat little piles. Despite crying herself to sleep the previous night, she awoke to an unusual sense of comfort and peace.

She had left the curtains open and the early morning sunshine was warming her face, creating the eerie sensation that everything was alright, when in fact everything was _not _alright and wouldn't be unless she got up right now and went to see Dumbledore. Squinting her eyes against the light, she got up to shut the curtains and get dressed in a room that was once again enveloped in darkness.

The walk to the future Headmaster's office was a relatively short one now that she went the correct way, and she didn't hesitate to knock on the door this time.

"Come in, Miss Clearwater."

Not bothering to wonder how he knew it was her, she made her way into his office and over to where he sat. His desk was covered in various magical trinkets, much like his office in the future, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. Here he was, young, healthy, and very much alive.

"Good morning Headm- Professor Dumbledore." She inwardly groaned at her almost slip up.

He smiled at her, gesturing for her to sit down. "Good morning to you. What brings you here so early on this fine morning?"

"I have something important to tell you, would you mind casting some sort of silencing charm on the room?" She wouldn't dare risk Riddle listening in. Dumbledore waved his wand around the room, and started at Hermione expectantly.

"Well, what I'm about to tell you may sound ridiculous but you have to believe me. I don't know who else to go to. You see, I'm not from here. I mean, I'm not from this era, I'm from somewhere near fifty decades into the future. There was an accident and I got pushed back here, and I have to warn you about something, about the reason I was even meddling with time in the first place-"

"Dear child, you mustn't reveal the secrets of the future to me. That could be catastrophic. You mustn't reveal the future to _anyone _here, ever." He looked at the young time traveller with sad eyes.

"But you don't understand, so many lives, I was sent back here for a reason!"

"I'm afraid that whatever happened in your future is a result of whatever happened here, if you attempt to change anything, it will most likely result in the prevention of you travelling back here in the first place, therefore erasing any history of you ever changing anything. I'm so sorry, there's nothing you nor I can do."

Hermione felt as if a giant hand had clasped her heart and her stomach, and began to squeeze. The more she thought about what the Professor had said, the more she realised he was right. There _was _nothing she could do.

"What... what about sending me back to my era? Is there a way? I can't stay here, I..."

Once again, Dumbledore looked at her sadly. "As of now, there is no means to travel forward in time, not even with dark magic. Penelope, w-"

She looked down, hiding the tears in her eyes, "Hermione, my name is Hermione."

"We can set up a life for you here, at Hogwarts, if you like."

She continued to stare the ground, the large fists around her internal organs refusing to let go. "I have no other choice, do I?" It was a rhetorical question, but Dumbledore confirmed her question anyway.

"You must learn Occlumency. I can tell you are already a rather adept occlumens, but this is a matter of utmost importance. I would be happy to meet with you on weekends, or we can find a different teacher from the ministry."

"No no, I'd love to learn from you." Hermione replied, and in that moment resigned herself to a new life in 1944.

**A/N: **Hah. Hahaha. Erm. Yeah. Sorry. It's been a while xD I met Tom Felton twice since I last updated (he remembered me the second time, name and all), got into University, got a new tumblr (destroy-the-spineless), and dyed my hair black. BUT I've got the plot for this story ALL sorted out, finally, with out any holes that I can see so far. SO YEAH, more regular updates from now on x

Please **review**, it motivates me a lot, and generally makes my day x


End file.
